


Plan ahead; it wasn’t raining when Noah built the Ark

by DarkmoonSigel



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), The Ark, Unicorns, we all know Crowley saved the kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 10:24:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20406184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkmoonSigel/pseuds/DarkmoonSigel
Summary: Ark story. We all know Crowley saved the kids...and unicorn 🦄Title is a quote from Richard Cushing.





	Plan ahead; it wasn’t raining when Noah built the Ark

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Ark story. Dat’s it.

Doing his rounds in the bowels of Ark’s deep stern, Aziraphale felt a vaguely familiar twinge of power in the far off distance of the ship’s bow. It wasn’t much of anything really. Any other angel would have ignored it, too involved with the righteous task at hand to become distracted. The ship had been designed by the Almighty so there were little strands of vague power floating about here and there.

Aziraphale wasn’t like other angels though, and he was one who was well versed with distractions. It didn’t help matters that he was bored out of his skull too.

The thrill of being on a very large boat with lots of animals was lost then one realized that they were on a very large boat with a lots of animals who had to have their needs attended to on a constant basis. There was a reason Noah and all his family with his many sons were allowed to live, and lot of it had to do with keeping the Ark clean. 

So the bored Principality wandered off to the furthest parts of the Ark, where all the nooks and crannies could be found. Every ship had them, little spaces where things could be hidden. Following his senses, Aziraphale found one of those such places. 

Of all things in creation to greet Aziraphale as he shimmied his way into a hideyhole, it was Crawley, rearing up like a cobra with his fangs bared at the angel who surprised Aziraphale. The demon looked  
ready to fight the Principality for every inch of this space. 

“Good Lord, what are you doing here?” Aziraphale asked, backing up until his back hit a wall. Crawley surged forward, keeping pace with the angel, increasing in size as he went along. 

“This isss all your lot’s fault!” Crawley began to hiss out, swaying from side to side as menacingly as possible. He didn’t want to fight Aziraphale, but Heaven had already proven itself to be too blindly cruel for his tastes.

Aziraphale almost brought his wings out. He didn’t want to fight Crawley, but he had been tasked with protecting the Ark. As soft as angel feathers looked, they were some of the deadliest things ever created by God, meant to protect and defend an angel. 

Aziraphale might not have his flaming sword anymore, but he did have his wings, two pairs of them, and like all the other Principalities, he had led legions of angels in the Great War in Heaven. He must have been good at it for he was one of the few Principalities left that remained in Heaven and on Earth. 

“There is no need for that.” Aziraphale said quietly calm, ignoring the demon now. He remained still, giving Crawley a change to calm down. The angel had managed to peek past the serpent, despite all his swaying. “Hush now. You’ll wake the children.”

“Aren’t you tasked with protecting this floating circus?” Crawley menaced still, not budging a scale out of place. If anything, he armored up, his scales looking hard and metallic as blackened iron. 

“I am, and I perceive no threat. I’ve only found a snake with its brood. Nothing out of the ordinary on a ship full of animals.” Aziraphale said, holding his hands up in the universal gesture of peace. “Now if that snake were to harm anyone, or anything on board, I would then have to take action, but as long as things are left as they are, my services are not needed.”

“I think my brood and I can keep out of the way.” Crawley said carefully, pulling his fangs back in as he shrank down. He was still considerable in size, but looked more snake-like than demonic creature the more he relaxed. “They’ll stay asleep until it’s safe to leave.”

“That’s practical. We might be here a while.” Aziraphale sighed, snapping up some provisions for them. “Do you want some wine?”

“Is it still raining outside?” Crawley sighed, already knowing the answer. 

“Yes.” Aziraphale said without a shadow of a doubt, plopping down on the floor. He took a long pull from the jug. It had been raining for twenty days and twenty nights already with no sign of stopping. 

“Then, yes, pass me the bloody wine already.” Crawley said, shifting into a shape best for that task as he took a seat next to the angel with a tired sigh. 

“Have you thought about what you are going to tell Hell?” Aziraphale said conversationally after a while of silently passing the wine back and forth between them.

“Ah, well, I’ll think of something.” Crawley muttered, studying the ship’s floorboards with renewed interest. “Been busy.”

“Because it would be impressive to save the humans that Heaven wanted dead. Real potential there, humans that owes their very lives to the forces of evil.” Aziraphale said in a thoughtful tone of voice, making the demon perk up.

“Yeah, true makings of a cult.” Crawley added his own spin onto it. 

“How’d you get the other unicorn on board? I thought they had a natural aversion to your kind.” Aziraphale asked, nodding to said sleeping unicorn.

“Wasn’t easy, I can tell you that much.” Crawley snorted. There was a reason the unicorn was permanently dozing for now.

That had been a last minute decision on his part, but then again, they all had been. Aziraphale had already left to attend to the Ark and its occupants like he was supposed to. The rain was already falling heavily by then. It hadn’t left the demon a whole lot of time to do what needed to be done. He had worked fast, not that there had been any other options to do so. The rain had come down, was still coming down, in buckets.

“Why save it at all? Why go to all the hassle?” Aziraphale asked simply, but meant something far broader. 

“Because I don’t always have to agree with God, that’s why.” Crawley snapped, expecting a lecture. To his surprise, the angel only slightly nodded as he looked over at the slumbering children. There were dozens and dozens of them, as many as Crawley could manage to find with the nonexistent time he’d been allotted. 

“What does it look like out there?” Crawley asked. He didn’t know what he was hoping for.

“I’ll show you. Change.” Aziraphale said, motioning at Crawley who was drunk enough to do so without questioning the angel. The demon found himself being picked up, and slung over shoulder.

“Oi! I’m not a scarf.” Crawley grumbled as he arranged. A human wouldn’t have been unable to pick him up, much less carry him. In Aziraphale’s case, it was no problem for him at all, easily slinging the Serpent of Eden where he needed him to be.

“I’ll keep Noah and the others away from here. Stay in your snake form if you have to seek me out for any reason, or just need to move around. No one is going to notice another animal, but do try to keep your excursions to a minimum.” Aziraphale said, ignoring the complaints.

Crawley was not a small snake, easily wrapping about Aziraphale’s body several times, but angels were supernaturally strong. The demon tried to ignore how permanently warm Aziraphale was, failing miserably at it as Crawley tightened his coils around the angel, the Serpent resting his head atop soft blonde curls that still smelled like sunlight. It was the last bit of good remembrance he got. 

The weather outside was utterly miserable. Thunder and lightening were being tossed about everywhere with not a speck of land in sight in-between the shaking shafts of sound blindingly solidified. This was a very personal storm, the Almighty throwing everything she had at the world as she wept for the loss of the Nephilim and everything else the water drowned. The rain tasted of sorrow, the lightening anger, and the thunder regret. It made the angel and demon quickly return to the inner warmth of the Ark. 

“Did you ever...” Crawley started to ask. He didn’t mind being wet, but the rain from this storm felt vile to the both of them for different reasons. Changing back quickly, Crawley snapped himself dry, the angel doing the same. 

“Father a Nephilim?! Good Lord, no!” Aziraphale said, quite offended. “I would never...”

“Calm down, angel. I was just curious. I meant nothing by it.” Crawley waved him off as the pair made their way back to the demon’s stolen corner of the Ark.

“The others had no business being down here, creating them.” Aziraphale huffed. For whatever reason, his brethren had come down to Earth for reasons he could not comprehend. Aziraphale no longer associated with those angels, preferring to keep to himself on this plane, and occasionally in the polite company of humans. “Angels are meant for good.”

“Do you really believe that?” Crawley had meant to chuckle, put some sort of humor into it, but it all came out as a sigh instead. 

“Yes, I do.” Aziraphale stated firmly, “A few bad apples doesn’t mean the whole crop is spoiled.” 

“Tell that to all the dead Nephilim out there, turned into fish food.”

“Crawley, why are you doing this to me? I’m just a Principality, and not even a very good one if Eden is anything to go by. I am not included in on the important decisions.” Aziraphale snapped, his patience frayed from the storm, and everything else that had happened of late. The topic of conversation hadn’t helped either. 

The Nephilim has been special, the result of angels fornicating with humans. Unfortunately, special didn’t always translate into something good. It would be much later on, but the Nephilim would be mostly forgotten by humans, the name lost to time, the children of angels mostly remembered as monsters when they were remembered at all. The beautiful good Nephilim and all their wondrous deeds would be completely forgotten, a few bad apples rotting the entire crop enough for total annihilation. 

“I dunno. I’m just raging at Heaven, and you’re the closest thing to it, I guess.” Crawley said with a careless shrug, because he wasn’t exactly done yet. Being pent up hadn’t helped.

“Being hateful to me will change nothing. It certainly won’t bring the Nephilim back, or any of these poor children’s parents either.” Aziraphale said softly, turning on heel to take his leave. The angel stormed off, looking red and wet around the eyes. Crawley drank the gifted wine that kept refilling itself, and tried not feel too morose about it.

Despite their argument, Aziraphale kept surprising Crawley, mainly by coming back night after night. The angel made of point of completely ignoring the demon though, his attention and intentions directed only at the sleeping children. Sulking in the farthest, darkest corner he could find, Crawley ignored Aziraphale back the best he could. It was harder than he wanted to admit to himself. 

Crawley had forgotten, made himself forget, about celestial harmonies, that angels loved to sing, were created for such a thing, the emotions that it could inspire. Aziraphale was no exceptions to this, his human voice a soothing baritone with decent ranges into bass. Curling up in a corner, Crawley listened in on the songs not meant for him, and felt a sliver of peace from them. 

The Principality sang of beauty and love which was to be expected, given what he was. What was shocking was that Aziraphale also knew songs of loss as well, the angel bringing Crawley to tears as he sang about loneliness of abandoned stars. Pain was made stunning as it slipped past Aziraphale’s lips, soft and deep as a fresh wound. The angel grieved and rejoiced in near equal parts, though he always made sure to end on a sweet peaceful high note, one that soothing all near him. 

After he was done, Aziraphale would silently leave, the space feeling light and clean in his wake, the air practically golden from it. Nothing was said to the demon, not even in parting, the angel ignoring all greetings, and attempts at conversation as he brushed past Crawley in whatever form he chose to be in. 

After two weeks of this, Crawley was ready to cave, and genuinely apologize to the angel. Aziraphale had been right after all. He wasn’t Fallen. The angel had to do as he was told. He hadn’t had any part in the creation of the Nephilim, and openly abhorred any angel who had. The flood and their extermination was wasn’t Aziraphale’s fault in the slightest. He had just been the easiest target for Crawley’s anger and frustration because God wasn’t talking to anyone, or taking any constructive criticism. 

Chugging down a good amount of wine in hopes of finding some courage in its depths, Crawley decided that it would be best after the singing, the demon watching the angel perform like he had done so for weeks now. Crawley didn’t want to accidentally piss off Aziraphale, and be left with nothing expect more wine and sleep. Getting drunk by himself had lost its appeal over a week back.

Holding out hope that Aziraphale would be the first one to break the silence between them...he didn’t, the stubborn bastard...Crawley waited a moment before going after him. In his haste, the demon ended up nearly bodily running into Aziraphale who had paused just outside the entrance of Crawley’s hidden nook. He was bleeding golden blood freely out of his finger, using it to paint Enochian runes into the wood. 

“What’s all this?” Crawley asked, a little stunned. He watched as Aziraphale bit the end of his finger to keep the wound properly open. 

“This Ark is God’s pet project, which makes it a focal point. That means other angels will be popping in to check on it.” Aziraphale said in a matter-a-fact tone of voice that brooked no argument, resuming his task. “If they sense you here, if you are discovered, you’ll be destroyed, and all those children will be drowned, tossed into that storm out there. 

“So all this, the singing...it’s to keep us safe.” Crawley reasoned out for himself, swallowing hard. Aziraphale didn’t say it, but if Crawley and his little plan were discovered, the angel would be punished too. The singing purified the space around the demon and children, and the angel’s own blood magic hid the rest of Crawley’s residing demonic presence. 

For all his good intentions, Crawley fully realized in that moment that he had put Aziraphale in grave danger with his recklessness. He had just shown up with barely a plan in mind, one that could end quite poorly for all of them, and yet the angel was doing everything in his limited power to help the demon out, unasked. 

“Yes, that is the plan.” Aziraphale said rather dryly, having learned sarcasm along the way somewhere. The angel quickly finished his task, beginning to take his leave to be hindered by a hand clutching his sleeve. 

“Thank you.” Crawley said roughly through all the emotion building up in his throat. For the second time in his existence, someone was being immensely kind to him for no reason that served them. “Stay?”

“If I do, I’ll just be putting you and all of them in danger. Heaven doesn’t schedule anything so another angel could show up at any given moment.” Aziraphale sighed. He dared to look back at the demon, immediately regretting it. Crawley looked about as lonely as the angel felt.

“Just this once.” Crawley said, still holding onto the angel’s sleeve. He was begging a bit, but was really past caring at this point. “Please? I can’t get drunk by myself again.”

“Just for a bit.” Aziraphale relented, letting himself be pulled back into the nook. He reasoned that they should be alright, the golden runes holding firm. 

The demon replied by pulling the angel in close, Crawley overwhelmed and underprepared about how to deal with that action though he had been the one to do it.

“What are you doing?” Aziraphale asked, going wide eyed as thin yet soft lips were pressed to his own in an instant. It wasn’t much a kiss, neither one of them much practiced in that regard. 

“Thanking you.” Crawley managed to say back, the rest of his words cut off by plush lips seeking his own. It was just as well. He would have embarrassed them both by saying something neither of them was ready to hear just yet. Crawley had to do something though to express his gratitude to the clever angel. He hoped that Aziraphale would never stop surprising him. 

“You needn’t. You did what I could not, and I am very grateful that you did.” Aziraphale said between kisses. He hadn’t had a lot of practice with kisses or kissing in general, but he thought he was getting the hang of it.

“Ngk!” Was all Crawley could sound as his back hit the wall, the angel taking over what he had started. Not only was Aziraphale a clever angel, he was also a quick learner. 

“Good thing you’re such a wonderful demon.” Aziraphale smiled into his kisses. Thin lips smiled back before parting. 

“And you’re such a terrible angel.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Your comments go hide with Crawley and the kids. Your kudos are stuck shoveling a lot of shit with Noah and the gang.


End file.
